What Life is Really All About
by nicknamewizard
Summary: Ross muses about his ex-wife, Joey worries about his future as an actor. Both men find comfort in each other. Explicit!


Im gonna preface this by saying that im kinda tipsy and also have only watched like 7 episodes of Friends in my entire life, but im feeling angsty and creative so this is the product of 12 am unfiltered emotions. Ready? Ok!

What Life is Really All About

There is always moonlight. It's basically a human right, to have sex in the moonlight, with the sweet smell of lilac from the neighbor's porch one floor down drifting through the open window, the nighttime summer breeze gently stirring the curtains and keeping the room at that perfect temperature for lovemaking. The reality is never quite that perfect, but lovers certainly remember it that way.

It didn't start out that way. Ross was brooding in Joey's apartment, thinking about his ex-wife, feeling woefully inadequate, unworthy of love or friendship. There is something about the moon, that it reveals what is inside our hearts, makes us reflect on our failures, makes us vulnerable and lonely. What kind of man was he? Ross wondered. Was he that bad of a husband, that he was the impetus that made his wife realize she was a lesbian? Did he do something wrong? Did she only like him at first because he was feminine?

He rested his face in his hands, feeling the familiar hurt of his damaged masculinity. In his mind, he knew he was being stupid, he wasn't feminine, not that there was anything wrong with being feminine, it wasn't his wife's fault that she had realized her sexuality too late, but damn if it didn't hurt even now. He'd went over to Joey's to drink whisky and forget, but it turned out all he had in the apartment was a half-ounce of Jack, which Chandler had conveniently left for someone else to deal with, rather than just discarding the bottle himself. So Joey had left to run to the liquor store a few blocks down, leaving Ross alone and Chandler out doing his own thing.

Honestly, he'd never felt more pathetic. He was thirsty and horny, and too shy to ask a woman to his bed. Dating was exhausting; he hated the rituals of small talk and icebreakers and getting-to-know-yous, and though he craved intimacy he feared the awkwardness leading up to it. Mostly he was frustrated with himself, with knowing exactly what he wanted but being unable to go after it, or just the opposite, with the motivation to make a change but uncertain what needed to be done. Maybe it was the city. Maybe he needed to move to a solitary monastery on a mountaintop for a few years to figure himself out.

Leaning his head against the back of the couch, Ross closed his eyes and fought back tears of frustration. He was stuck in life, and didn't know how to get moving again. The moon seemed to offer insight as its light slanted through the window, if only Ross could unlock its silken secrets, then he might just have a chance at solving mysteries of his own soul. Moonbeams were tenuous as spider-threads, and equally unreliable, blown away at the first strong breeze, but to a man as uncertain as he, they appeared as a guiding light on a stormy sea. Somehow, he felt this would be an auspicious night.

Joey came back, and tossed a half-empty bottle at Ross. "Sorry, buddy, couldn't wait," he said, words already slurring together as he plunked down on the couch beside Ross. "You ever feel like, you just fucked it all up? You know?"

"What?" Ross asked, not following at all. Joey couldn't have been gone for more than 45 minutes, what had soured his mood so quickly?

"I mean, life. Right?"

"Uh, you've lost me."

"I went into acting because I thought it was my passion, or whatever. But what the hell 'as it gotten me so far? A couple shitty roles, barely enough money t'pay rent. I dunno man. I guess I musta been naive or some shit 'cause I thought it would be better than this."

Ross took a swig straight from the bottle, and winced as the alcohol burned its way down his throat. Misery loves company, apparently. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I miss Carol all the time."

"Oh, God, Ross you gotta get over that. She left you, it wasn't your fault, move the hell on."

"I'll move on when I'm damn well ready." Ross drank more, trying not to show how much his friend's words stung. He'd loved Carol, or thought he had. He didn't know anymore.

"Just find another chick to fuck, and you'll forget all about her. Man, I dunno why you're so hung up over one girl."

"Well, I was married to her." Joey was usually a good-natured drunk; Ross couldn't figure out why he was being so combative. "What does it matter to you, anyway?"

"Fuckin' sick of hearing about her. Seriously, you're one good fuck away from a new chapter in life."

Ross scoffed, finishing off the bottle in two quick gulps, and shuddering as it went down. "Maybe it's that easy for you, but I'm not like that."

Joey gave him a look. "Like what?"

"You know."

"No I don't know, why don't you fucking tell me, Ross?"

He put his face in his hands, feeling the first effects of the alcohol making his head fuzzy. It must be the moon, turning men into wolves. "Sex is hard for me."

"It's hard for all men," Joey said, with a drunken wink. He tried to punch Ross in the arm but missed and clipped him in the chin instead.

"Fuck off, Joey."

"Hey, buddy."

Ross ignored him, desiring nothing more than to be left alone to mope.

"Ross. It kills me to see you like this. She was just one person, and she was wrong for you anyway. The past is dead, let it go." Joey wrapped his arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close.

Pathetic, but Ross enjoyed the closeness. He blamed the alcohol, which was slowly increasing in his bloodstream. Joey smelled nice, like shampoo and leather, and Ross was just at that point of tipsy where he didn't think to restrain himself from burying his face in his friend's neck, breathing in his scent. Joey leaned his cheek against the top of Ross's head.

The old saying occurred to Ross then, that sober thoughts make drunken actions, but he couldn't really figure out why that was important. All he knew was that Joey's scent was masculine and inviting, and his body felt warm, firm, alive. Joey was stroking his hair now, and damn it felt good to be touched. Ross felt a wave of desire that didn't make sense, but suddenly he knew what he wanted and had just enough liquid courage to go for it.

He captured Joey's lips with his own, pulling him in for a heated kiss that left them both breathless and hungry for more. Joey's eyes were dark, commanding, and Ross felt weak at the sexual energy he saw there. He cupped Joey's jawline, feeling the unshaved roughness of his cheek, and kissed him again, this time slipping his tongue past his teeth, tasting the alcohol on his hot breath.

Joey pulled up Ross's shirt and his fingertips burned a trail up his back, smoothing over his skin, drawing a line down his spine before coming around to the front. Ross flinched as Joey touched his sensitive belly. Heat pooled between his thighs.

With a look of concern, Joey pulled his hand away, but Ross grabbed it and placed it back on his abs. "Feels good there," he said, kissing Joey's neck, nipping at the soft skin over his throat. He unbuttoned Joey's shirt, wanting to see more, taste more, to feel the muscles of his chest under his lips. Joey's hair felt rough, and his body was all hard planes and edges, and Ross couldn't get enough of him. Ross had no idea what he was doing, but he bit the flesh around Joey's nipple and got the response he was hoping for. Joey dug his fingers into Ross's side and arched into his mouth. Obviously a sensitive area, then.

Ross continued to kiss and bite, loving the soft sounds his friend was making. There was something else Ross wanted, something he couldn't quite put words to, but he nearly came undone every time Joey dug his nails into his skin or pulled his hair. He was desperate with need.

He palmed Joey through his jeans, feeling the stiff length of his cock, and the rational part of his mind was screaming that this was insane and friends weren't supposed to suck each other off, but damn, he wanted it.

"Fuck, Ross," Joey moaned. "You're makin' me crazy."

Ross had never touched another man's cock before, but he figured it couldn't be much different from his own. He unzipped Joey's pants, taking just a moment to feel his heat through his boxers before bringing his erection out into the air. It felt like steel coated in silk, and he gripped him hesitantly, uncertain how to begin.

"Is this okay?" Ross asked, watching Joey's face for signs of reluctance.

Instead, his friend's eyes sparkled with lust, and affection. "Hell yeah, kid."

That was all the encouragement he needed. Ross bent over Joey's lap and sucked the tip of his cock, marveling at the unfamiliar taste. Joey made a sound deep in his throat, and gently gripped the back of Ross's neck. He had the inexplicable wish for Joey to wrap his fingers around his throat, but he didn't know how to explain what he wanted, especially with his mouth full of the other man's cock. He licked up and down the length, teasing the glans with his tongue before swallowing him again, bobbing his head up and down as far as he could go. He was aware that he wasn't particularly skilled at this, but hell, even a bad blowjob felt damn good.

Joey placed a finger under Ross's chin and lifted his head up gently, leaning in for another sloppy kiss. Their tongues met in a messy, passionate dance, and Ross couldn't form a conscious thought except for the feeling of pleasure and desire.

"Hey, Joey."

"Yeah?"

"Bite my neck."

Joey complied, sucking and biting softly, turning on Ross like a lightswitch but it wasn't enough.

Impatiently, Ross pulled off his shirt, baring his skin, which burned with need. "Harder."

With a look as to say 'you asked for it', Joey sunk his teeth into the skin over Ross's pulse, biting down almost hard enough to draw blood. Ross moaned with breathless pleasure, and gripped the couch cushion as if afraid he would float away. Joey nipped in other places, the base of his throat, his collarbones, and damn, Ross felt like he might explode from the sensations of Joey's mouth alone.

Suddenly, Joey pulled back and grabbed Ross by his jaw. "I wanna fuck you in my bed," Joey growled into his ear. Not giving Ross time to answer, he stood up, holding his pants with one hand and pulling Ross by the arm with the other.

Ross was beyond excited and massively turned on by Joey's rough treatment. Upon reaching his bedroom, Joey shoved Ross backwards until his knees hit the bed, and he fell. He looked up into his friend's eyes, so dark with desire, and at his thick cock which felt so good in his mouth. Ross sat up and wrapped an arm around Joey's hip, grabbing his cock and pumping experimentally. Joey pushed into Ross's fist, and a bead of pre-cum glistened at the tip. Ross licked it off, and then sucked him down once again, and he thought he had never done anything so erotic in his entire life. He liked the power he had over Joey.

"Babe, stop or I'm gonna cum in your mouth," Joey breathed. He pushed Ross back down on the bed, leaning over him and removing his pants with clumsy haste. Joey kicked off his own pants, and then they were both naked except for Joey's shirt, which hung open, revealing a light dusting of hair. Ross ran his fingers down Joey's chest and trailed down his thigh, liking the feel of his hard leg muscles.

Joey walked over to his bedside table and opened the drawer, pulling out a tube of K-Y jelly. He raised an eyebrow suggestively, and Ross grinned back, too thrilled to be nervous.

"Spread your legs," Joey ordered, kneeling on the bed beside him. Ross happily obeyed, cock throbbing with the promise of pleasure.

Joey lubed up his fingers, pushing into Ross's ass with his forefinger to get him warmed up. At first, Ross couldn't help tensing, but he quickly relaxed under Joey's gentle massage. He crooked his finger, moving in and out until Ross was straining for more, before adding another finger, and then another. It was a strange new sensation, but felt so good, so intimate, and Ross wanted more. He wanted Joey to fuck him and bite him and own him.

Continuing with his digital ministrations, Joey knelt over Ross and mouthed his cock, kissing the sensitive skin and teasing him with the gentlest threat of teeth.

"Fuck yes, Joey," Ross sighed, helpless under his touch.

To Ross's frustration, Joey stopped and pulled out his fingers. He positioned himself between Ross's legs, squeezing lube onto his cock in preparation.

"You ready for this?"

"Shut up and fuck me, Joey."

Ross threw his head back against the pillows, biting his lip at the raw heat of Joey's hard cock inside him. It felt unbelievably good, so tight, Ross was greedy with lust. He bucked his hips, bringing Joey deeper into him, and the other man growled, pinning Ross's forearms to the bed.

Joey started to fuck Ross, thrusting in and out, angling his cock in an attempt to hit Ross's prostate, and when he finally did brush against that sensitive gland, Ross arched his back and shouted his pleasure to the world.

"Fuck! Jesus fuck, Joey," he groaned. He felt like his pelvis and inner thighs were quivering, and his dick begged to be stroked. It was electrifying, and Ross could feel himself getting close to the edge. He guided Joey so he nudged and bumped his prostate with every thrust, and Ross panted with exhilaration.

Joey kissed the corner of his mouth. "Look at me. I wanna see your eyes when you cum."

Ross looked into his brown eyes, and lost all control. The man fucked him until his legs were weak and his cock pulsed with fluid, and the world seemed to disappear except for Joey and the pleasure they experienced together. With a groan, Joey came along with Ross, filling his ass with hot, thick liquid. He collapsed on top of Ross, and they laid together for several minutes, letting the cool breeze from the open window dry their sweat.

Eventually, Joey pulled out and rolled to the side, and Ross looked over at him, suddenly feeling uncertain. The buzz from the whisky had worn off, and he was embarrassed at his uncharacteristic boldness. He'd been feeling lonely, and drunk, and Joey was just _there…_

"Stop thinking so much," Joey said in a low voice.

"What?" Ross looked at the ceiling.

"You're overthinking this."

Ross sighed, and closed his eyes. Joey was probably right, but that didn't stop his thoughts from turning in circles.

"Ross."

"Yeah."

"Look at me."

He did, but didn't know what he was supposed to see in Joey's eyes. His lips were crooked in a half-smile, and he reached out to grab Ross's hand. Joey brushed his thumb over Ross's knuckles, reassuring him.

"You're my best friend, man," Ross said.

Joey raised an eyebrow. "Really? Not Chandler?"

"Shut up."

Joey snuggled up against his side, resting his head on Ross's chest, and almost on instinct Ross reached up to run his fingers through Joey's dark, shaggy hair. He wouldn't lie; it felt damn right to sleep with him. Joey's warm presence felt comforting, like something Ross didn't know he'd been missing. He tucked Joey's hair behind his ear, and kissed the top of his head, and let the beat of Joey's heart lull him into sleep. Ross didn't need to question this. He trusted Joey, and realized that their relationship would be what it would be. Moonlight, with all its radiant mystery, had a way of bringing lovers together, after all.


End file.
